


Linger on

by Jepshe



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:20:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27400339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jepshe/pseuds/Jepshe
Summary: Arya has just gotten her doctor's licence when two things happen: she and her long-time best friend realise they are very much in love with each other and she gets the news she can finally fulfill one of her biggest dreams, working as a doctor in crisis situations overseas.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 74
Kudos: 105





	1. Loving and leaving

**Author's Note:**

> I am so happy to finally post the first part of this story that has been so long in the making. I've already written most of the other two parts but felt like I would never get it finished if I didn't start posting. 
> 
> The title of the story is from Pale blue eyes by the Velvet Underground, a song that's been stuck in my head for most of this year, and I knew I wanted to capture some of that feeling.

Strolling through the farmers' market on a Friday afternoon, picking up everything she felt like to make a meal from on the weekend was one of Arya's favorite things. And doing it on her day off, with her best friend who had left work early just to join her, talking about their weeks — that was all the better. 

Like right now, explaining to him about her night out on Wednesday. 

"It was like the worst date in the history of dating."

Gendry frowns at her.

"Really? Worse than when you ended up having to call me and Jon to get that creep to leave you alone?"

Arya chuckles, inspecting a zucchini from the stall and handling a couple of coins to the seller before placing it in the bag Gendry is carrying.

"Okay, it wasn't  _ that _ bad but it was so dull I could have fallen asleep and considering how perceptive the dude was I doubt he would have even noticed it."

"I'm starting to feel bad for this guy," Gendry says as they move further along the stalls on the market.

"You always say that but I think you should feel bad for me. It's me who's going through all these horrible dates. And I'm the one who's your best friend so you should be on my side."

She considers some cheeses, noticing one she thinks will fit well with all her vegetables.

"You're the one agreeing to go to go out with all those people. Maybe you should just pick the people you date better," he tells her when she has paid for her cheese.

"It's not like I have a line of interesting people just waiting for me to date them."

"I think you have enough of them," Gendry says dryly "- hey, do you want some coffee?"

Arya nods and he asks for two cups from the truck that conveniently doesn't have a line right now. Arya pours some milk into her cup and places lids on both of the cups while Gendry pays. 

"Maybe I just shouldn't bother anymore. I can resign into a life as a spinster," she says as they start walking again.

Gendry laughs at her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"You're twenty-eight, I think you have a few years to go before you can be announced as a lost cause."

"Well you would say that, knowing how absurdly old you are yourself."

He shakes his head.

"Always so mean.  _ That _ is why you are still single."

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The bar is full and all her best friends are there and there are all these fast punky songs playing and then for a change some old pop song that has them all singing the lyrics they didn't even remember they still knew by heart. It's the perfect way to celebrate in Arya's opinion. No fancy parties or small talk or speeches – except for the one Rickon makes spontaneously, as he places the tray of shots on their table and clears his throat so he can remind everyone that his "old as hell" big sister has finally tricked some important people into giving her a doctor's licence so they really need to drink to that.

They drink until they are well and thoroughly hammered and they dance until they are sweaty and their feet hurt.

Arya doesn't know how long they've been there, she's lost in the music, in the middle of the crowd, when Gendry finds his way to her through all the people.

"Hey you!" she yells when he's close enough, throwing her arms around him, forcing him to start moving with her.

Gendry doesn't really dance, he never does, but Arya is moving with the music, swaying and bouncing and he just laughs at her and moves enough to make it seem like he's dancing along with her. It's actually more like he's just hugging her but whatever, close enough.

She pulls him down so she can speak directly to his ear — it's the only way he can hear her.

"I was starting to get worried you had left already."

"I can't let you walk back home on your own," he yells back. "Or did you find someone else to take you?"

He is teasing her, but he's so awfully cute she can't help holding him a little tighter.

"Why would I try to find someone else when I have you?"

He laughs and she laughs too just because they're drunk and it's past midnight and they are on the dance floor and she has finally gotten her licence and all her friends are there. And maybe especially because Gendry is there too, and he's the best friend she could ever ask for. He makes her feel happy and he makes her laugh like he always does and she's so glad he's with her on this occasion too.

"I can't believe we need to go to my parents' party tomorrow," she yells into his ear. "We're gonna be so dead tomorrow."

"We really should have thought of that before the second round of shots."

"But how much fun would that have been?" she laughs.

"I always told you you were going to be my demise," he tells her, picking her up and starting to twirl her around in the air even though the dance floor is definitely too crowded for that. And the only thing she can do is laugh uncontrollably, holding tight to him even after he puts her down. 

They haven't been like this much lately, always tied up in their lives that have become alarmingly adult-like. Gendry's been working hard, trying to build up his career — rather successfully, one might add, and Arya's been tired from all the work required for graduating.

But this, goofing around in a full bar with no care in the world, this feels like them and there's no one in the world she'd want to share a moment like this rather than Gendry.

  
  
  


She pulls Gendry by the hand towards the door to her building.

"Come on, I'm drunk and I haven't had any luck in ages. The least I deserve is a cuddle," she tells him.

"I don't know why I have to make up for your inability to find someone you actually like."

"Ever consider it might be the other way around? Didn't you just say today I was too mean?"

"Yes, but you're still too pretty to be single if it's not for your pickiness."

He smiles at her, all mirth and teasing but with that warmth too, the same love she knows he has for her. That's just how he is, teasing her endlessly but never failing to make sure she knows how highly he thinks of her. There's this feeling of softness, safeness, something she can't quite place at the moment but it makes her feel so utterly happy, just the knowledge that she has someone like him.

"That is the cutest compliment mixed with an insult you've given me in a while. Now you definitely need to come and give me those cuddles."

He laughs at her once again, but he lets her pull himself inside just the same, closing her front door properly after she just stumbles in, picking her jacket up from the floor where she chucks it.

She pulls her shirt off on her way to the bathroom, throwing it in the direction of her chair. 

Arya feels like she's halfway asleep when she climbs in the bed, but she still registers Gendry getting in next to her a minute later, snuggling closer so he can have some of the duvet. Contently she turns around, going for that cuddle that was promised and it feels wonderfully familiar when Gendry lifts his arm to wrap it around her when she settles against his chest. 

  
  
  


She can feel the headache pounding on her temples before she even opens her eyes. She rubs her eyes, trying to shift into a position that would lessen the pain, already knowing that's not really possible. Her movement does inflict a reaction from Gendry though, as his arm around her tightens it's hold. And when he pulls her closer to him there's something else than the headache that gets her attention. It's Gendry, very obviously hard against her backside. 

It must be her very hungover state and the fact that it's been a while since she's had sex, but the feeling of Gendry's hardness pressing her combined with the feeling of him, warm and sturdy and holding her closely, breathing in her hair, has her feeling a rush of arousement. Suddenly, she can feel her heartbeat between her legs and she needs to squeeze her eyes shut tighter to stop certain images from forming in her mind. 

This bloody, bloody hangover is doing numbers on me, Arya thinks as she forces herself to turn to her back, separating her body from Gendry's slightly. 

Her movement seems to awaken Gendry, as he scrunches up his face and then opens his eyes, a sleepy smile forming in his face as he meets her gaze.

"Morning," he says, his voice groggy.

"How can you even smile?" 

"I think you were way worse off than I was last night," he tells her and she guesses it's probably true.

"Well that's just one more reason for you to be the one who makes the coffee." 

He doesn't argue, just gets out of the bed and by the time Arya makes it into the kitchen there's a cup on the table, waiting for her.

She is still sitting there, having her second cup, when he pulls on his jacket and promises to be back in time to pick her up for her parents' party.

* * *

  
  


Gendry knocks on her door half an hour before they need to leave for dinner.

"I've just gotten over the hangover and now we need to get going again," Arya complains as she lets him in.

He gives her a once over, taking in her clearly unfinished appearance.

"You might want to brush that hair before we go."

"Shut up, I'm blaming you for all of today. It's your fault I'll be looking like shit at the dinner my parents are throwing me," she tells him. "Zip me." 

Arya turns around, revealing the open back of her dress, letting Gendry pull up the zipper before she gets back to the bathroom and starts working on that hair.

"There's ice tea in the fridge if you want some." 

She hears him move to the kitchen area.

"Pour some for me too, will you," she calls from the bathroom.

Once her hair is done Arya goes to get that drink. Gendry puts his glass down.

"I got you something," he tells her.

She looks at the little box he sets on the table and then at him, watching her. He gives her a nod and she opens the box, picking up the piece of jewelry inside. 

It's impossible to hide the surprise and she thinks he notices it too.

"What's this?" 

Gendry looks sheepish. 

"I didn't really know what you'd like…" 

Arya stops him, shaking her head, glancing back at the necklace in her hand.

"This is beautiful, Gendry. It looks old, where did you get it?" 

"It was my mom's." 

She stills, looking up at him.

"Gendry."

She doesn't know what to say and Gendry just runs his hand through his hair, shrugging.

"Do you want to try it?" he asks, and Arya mumbles a yes, opening the clasp and turning around, giving the ends of the chain to him so he can put them together.

"I'll go see how it is and get my stuff," she tells him without turning around, feeling like she needs a moment and leaves the room. 

There's the feeling again, this something. It's there when she runs her fingers along the necklace -  _ his mother's necklace  _ \- in her bedroom and she thinks it has something to do with how she felt this morning, waking up in Gendry's arms, and she has a feeling it was there in Gendry's eyes when he gave her the jewellery. 

It's unsettling, making it hard to focus on getting ready. It's just there, a thought barely formed, something she knows she's thought of before but always pressed down, but it's hard to do that now.

No, she shakes it off as she checks herself in the bathroom mirror. He was just giving her a present, just being nice. And she must be just tired and it's the hangover making her emotional. 

"Do I look alright?" she asks walking back in the kitchen. He turns to look at her properly, setting his glass to the counter. His eyes glide over her and he smiles.

"You're absolutely beautiful."

"You're just saying that because you want to get going," she says, rolling her eyes.

"No, I'm saying it because you are the most beautiful woman I know."

The sudden sincerity in his voice stops her on her tracks. He's told her many times that she looks good in some outfit or another or that she's pretty, but this doesn't feel the same. And suddenly, Arya feels unsure of herself.

"Yeah? You really think so?"

"I've always thought so," he mutters, looking at her carefully and it feels like there's a lot more meaning in his words than just saying he appreciates her appearance.

"Gendry…"

He's rubbing his temple, looking at her like he's asking for her approval, as if he's asking from her if he's allowed to say more. She offers him a small smile, holding her breath as she waits for him to say the words.

He doesn't say anything, just keeps his eyes fixed to hers as he moves closer to and leans down. She raises her face and he leans his forehead against hers.

They stay there, breathing the same air for a little while.

His eyes are closed when he finally speaks, with a voice so soft it feels like it is stroking her all over.

"You're the prettiest and the loveliest and the most amazing person I know."

His hands have come to hold her around her waist and hers are lingering somewhere on his abdomen, lightly grazing the fabric of his shirt as she moves them to his sides

It all makes her head spin and all she can think of doing is raising her face just a little bit closer to his and letting her lips brush against his in a slow, soft kiss.

Arya leans back down just a little bit, looking up at him as he finally opens his eyes, swallowing. She lets out a breath that's somehow very shaky, trying to find her voice to say something, trying to think of what one's supposed to say to their best friend after kissing them.

His phone peeps, letting them know their ride has arrived, and Arya's face turns inadvertently to the clock on her wall.

When she turns back, he has scrunched his eyes shut, his whole face tense, far from the wondrous way he was gazing at her just a moment ago.

"We need to go," she says quietly, and he nods, still keeping his eyes shut but starting to move away from her. But she keeps her hands on his sides, stilling his movement.

"Gendry," she pleads and he looks at her, insecure.

"We'll continue this later, okay?" she asks softly, pressing her hand to his forearm, brushing it gently and his face softens too as he nods, his eyes again holding some of that emotion they had before.

Arya grabs her purse, puts on her heels and pulls on her jacket, looking at Gendry as he pulls on his own.   
  
  


She sits next to him in the car, not on the other window seat but right next to him, their sides pressed together. It feels impossible not to, like the idea of keeping that space between them is utterly ridiculous.

Gendry looks down at her, his eyes sliding towards the driver for a second as if he's considering whether it's the right place to say something or not and obviously deciding against it since he stays silent.

Instead, he raises his hand and his fingers trace the necklace. 

"If it feels like it's too much you can have it back," Arya says carefully. "It's beautiful and I love it but if you feel like it's too much, that you want to keep it..." 

He shakes his head, fingers still on the jewellery. 

"No. It's perfect on you. And mom liked you, she would have liked you to have it. There's no point for me to keep all of them locked in a box."

"Sure?" she questions because she knows Gendry doesn't have a lot of her mum's old things saved up. He smiles as he nods.

"I'm sure."

He rarely speaks about his mom, rarely even mentions her, so Arya knows how much those words mean. She also knows it's true, she had liked Gendry's mom too, and that makes the gift even more special. She tells Gendry as much and it makes him smile again.

She moves her hand on his arm that's pressed between them and then, slowly, slides it to touch his palm, lacing their fingers together. It makes his face soften even more.

"You really look beautiful," he says and she knows it's not just another compliment but also a return to the conversation they were having, or were about to have in the kitchen before the car arrived.

Her face feels warm and she has to take her eyes away from his for a bit. It's just all so much, him looking at her like that, him, stroking her hand with his thumb, his voice so tender when he speaks to her, the necklace that she knows means a lot to him just because it was his mother's. But Gendry's earlier assessment feels right, this is not the place to talk it all through.

"Thank you," she whispers, hiding her face in his neck, and for now it feels like it's clear enough.

  
  


Arya only lets go of his hand when they walk inside the restaurant, going straight to her family and receiving congratulations and gifts as she settles down at the table. But still, through the night, her eyes keep finding Gendry's and her hand keeps lingering on his arm whenever she needs to get his attention. Every single time he meets her with that same tender smile — a small one, almost shy, but somehow simultaneously straightforward, intimate in a way that feels new. And then his hand hovers on the small of her back and it sends tingles all over her skin and she looks at him — and has another revelation about what all that intimacy could be.

But another family member starts talking to her and she needs to focus on normal conversation instead of this thing that's happening with her best friend.   
  


They have moved on to the pub after the dinner, her parents making the exception of joining them for this special occasion, and Arya is talking with Bran by the bar when Sansa and Margaery sneak up on her. 

"Is something going on between you and Gendry?" 

"What?" 

Sansa and Margaery give her the exact same pointed look with raised eyebrows that in another situation would have her making a comment about couples starting to look like each other but now just makes her shrug in an attempt to avoid answering them. 

"Don't act like you don't know what we're talking about."

Arya turns to Bran for support, but she's in no luck as Bran just smiles in his typical vague way. 

"Anyone would notice it." 

"Just tell us. Are you guys together?" Sansa insists. 

Arya sighs, giving up trying to get away from the conversation without an answer.

"It just happened, we haven't even talked about it," she explains. 

Her eyes find Gendry's across the room. He's chatting with Jon and Robb at their table but he smiles at her and she just has to smile back. 

"But I guess we are," she says, just because it seems pointless to pretend otherwise.

She almost misses Sansa and Margaery's 'oh's and Bran's knowing nodding, more focused on the realisation settling on her, and the excitement growing up from the pit of her stomach, making her nervous and lighthearted at the same time.

  
  


"Hey Arya," Jon says, coming to hug her. "We're leaving now, Ygritte's not feeling too well and she's getting tired." 

"You kind of need to get used to that. Might not get better for a while." 

"I guess so," Jon says but doesn't seem bothered in the least. 

"Think you'll be having a long night?" he asks Arya. 

"Nah. I think I'll stay for a little while longer but not too long." 

She hugs Jon and waves her hand at Ygritte, already standing by the door, rubbing her swollen belly and looking like she's more than anxious to get out of there.

Jon walks away and Arya glances at Gendry, standing beside her, from the corner of her eye, thinking about what he just told Jon about going home soon. 

"Will you come to my place?" she asks, suddenly feeling shy. 

But the way he looks at her, his eyes seeming like they can't see anyone else, his smile only for her, she knows she hasn't got anything to worry about. He'll come with her and he'll stay as long as she wants him to and it's not about just tonight. 

It's the two of them and they haven't even properly talked about what is happening but Arya just knows. And she's sure that Gendry knows it too. 

They are best friends and they are them. There would not be anything happening between them if there wasn't  _ everything _ happening. 

It's not just about tonight and it's not just about sex — but she has the most exhilarating realisation that it will most definitely be about that too and that is just - 

She needs to bite her lip not to make some inappropriate noise right there thinking about it. 

  
  


Gendry takes her hand as soon as they are out of the immediate sight from the restaurant door. It feels natural, like it wasn't the first time but the norm in their interaction.

Arya has never really understood the saying of walking on clouds but that is the expression that best describes what she is feeling right now. The night air feels pleasantly warm and the dark city feels kind and if anyone around her is not feeling happy then she doesn't really notice it. All she can take note of is Gendry walking beside her and his thumb caressing her hand every once in a while and the warm and exhilarating thought that they are walking home together, to share the night together, to  _ be _ together.

It's every single element in the world arranging themselves into place.

Her best friend is suddenly not only her best friend and she feels like she could just laugh or sing or jump about because it's all just  _ perfect _ .

  
  


The nearer they get to her flat, the more Arya feels the mixture of excitement and nerves growing inside her and by the time they get in it feels impossible to wait a second longer. 

She steps closer to Gendry, pulling him down so she can kiss him, in a way that is very much different to the slow, cautious brush of lips before the dinner. All those fleeting touches and subtle — or not so subtle, if her siblings are to be believed — looks during the evening seem to have done their trick and the cautiousness is all gone.

Gendry holds her flush against him, his hand wandering down to her hip.

"Should we talk?" Gendry mumbles against her lips, moving to kiss along her jaw.

She chuckles.

"Do you really want to talk now?"

And then Gendry's chuckling too, looking at her and she feels downright giddy as she looks at him and sees him grinning back at her.

"Not exactly," he says and that roughness in his voice seems to tingle in the pit of her stomach. 

It's funny how just last night she didn't waste another second being bothered by the fact that he saw her half naked but now she can't help noticing how dark his eyes turn when she takes off her shirt and he sees all that bare skin. She watches him swallowing as he stares at her and when she moves closer to him again his touch has a new level of urgency in it and his fingers go to the clasp of her bra to open it.

Gendry bends down, his hands holding her waist as he licks her nipple before taking it in his mouth, one of his hands sliding down to hold the back of her thigh under her skirt as he moves his mouth to her other breast, kissing the underside of it before biting lightly on the nipple. 

He opens the button of her skirt and slides the zipper down, letting the garment drop to the floor, his lips moving down on her body. But Arya pulls him back up to her, kissing his lips and sliding her hands to his chest. 

It's hard to keep her hands from shaking as she starts opening the buttons of his shirt. The want is rushing through her and he seems to be in a similar state as his fingers work on his belt. 

"We should probably get to the bed," she whispers and her voice sounds shaky. All Gendry does is nod. 

But before Arya can properly lay down he grabs her thighs, pulls down her underwear and leans down between her legs and then his mouth is on her, kissing her lightly first but then more insistently. And he raises her other knee up and puts it over his shoulder, that alone making her breath hitch even before his lips are back on her. 

She holds his head, burying her fingers in his hair as he moves his tongue in long shrides, pressing it firm on her and he's sucking her clit, his hands holding her hips tight. When she comes it's with a breathy moan, the rush of it feeling sudden even though she has felt it building up since the second they stepped into her flat. 

Gendry lets her have a moment, pushing down his own jeans, reaching to get a condom from her night stand — because of course he knows where she keeps those — and moving to lay down next to her.

She looks at him and for a second she is worried this will be awkward. Because it's her best friend and he just had his head between her legs and she still has trouble calming her breathing, but then he leans closer to kiss her, just shortly, and it's enough to show her there's absolutely nothing that's awkward about this. So she slides her hand between them and wraps her fingers around him, finding him so hard already. 

"Fuck," Gendry hisses, dropping his forehead on her shoulder, making a strangled sound against her skin. 

Arya strokes him a couple of times, feeling as he huffs hard on her. She's making him as delirious as he just made her and she likes it. It's the same way she likes to make him laugh — but it's not the same at all. This is new and she's watching him, learning him, testing what he likes. 

And she decides she can let Gendry know what she likes, too, so she pushes him on his back and slides on top of him, kissing him as she sits on top of his thighs, her hand still holding his shaft. 

"Arya you're killing me here," Gendry breathes out, his eyes closed as he clearly tries to restrain himself. 

"I am?" she questions, her voice like honey when she teases him. 

The little breathy chuckle he lets out goes straight to her core, making her move her hips unconsciously. 

"You really are mean." 

It's Arya's turn to laugh and she rolls the condom on him before she bends down to kiss his lips lightly as she finally lifts her hips and lines the tip of his cock with her, rubbing it on her folds a few times before taking him in. 

"But you said I'm still pretty," she reminds him.

His voice comes from somewhere deep in his throat as he speaks, it's so low it sends shivers down her spine.

"You are."

She leans back, placing her hands on his thighs behind her to balance herself, and she moves on him until all she hears is the air rushing in her ears and she has to hold his hands, settled on the top of her legs, just to have something to hold on to when the feeling becomes almost too much to bear.    
  
  


It doesn't feel like an option to separate the next day. In fact, it doesn't even feel like they can get out of bed until it's noon and Arya is hungry and Gendry's head is hurting in a way that screams for coffee. 

But Arya has promised to visit her parents house to see an old crib her mother has digged up from the attic and Arya has promised to fix up for Jon and Ygritte, so Gendry comes along on the excuse of giving her advice on how to best work on the crib. It's a lame excuse, but neither of them care. Her parents don't question it, so they don't bother explaining anything, they just set the crib on the back terrace and start working on it. And if they happen to smile at each other a little more than usual, or if they are more touchy than usual then that's just how it goes — not like they've kept much distance between them before, is it?

Arya really couldn't care less, she's just feeling way too happy to worry about anything today.

Later, as Arya helps her mother clean the table she can see Gendry working on the crib, his face insistent as he tries to get all of the old paint off from a difficult spot. She knows she's smiling like an idiot, and it feels stupid to keep it a secret anymore.

"So me and Gendry…" she starts but her mother merely huffs. 

"I'm not blind." 

Her mother just smiles at her. 

"You look happy," Cat says and coming from her that is a lot. 

"I am," Arya tells her mother, watching as Gendry stands up and straightens his back, stretching his arms above his head, trying very hard not to look like a lovesick teenager and knowing she's not fooling anyone.

  
  


Everyone else takes the news the same way her mother did, not really that surprised about it. Rickon throws some half-hearted joke about brothers defending their sisters' honor, Sansa claims it was "more like a matter of time" and Bran tells them they better not get any more annoying in company. 

It seems the two of them are the only ones feeling any sort of surprise for the turn of events. But on the other hand, it kind of feels like no surprise at all. It's still her and Gendry, like they always were, just with another layer added up to it to make it feel new and exciting.

It's all good, so very good, and Arya doesn't bother worrying about moving too fast because that just seems like an absolutely ridiculous thing to worry about. It's not like they need to go out on dates and get to know each other, right?

They still stroll through the farmers' market when they can, they still eat pizza on her couch, watching movies, they still meet their friends in the pub. They just spend nearly every night in the same bed and wake up curled together. 

Arya stops talking about life as a spinster. Gendry doesn't stop telling her he thinks she's beautiful. 

* * *

  
  
  


Gendry is already sitting at the table when Arya hurries into the restaurant. 

"They accepted me! They just called today about a fieldworker position!" she exlaims before she has even sat down. 

She can't keep it in, she's too excited. 

It takes Gendry a moment to realise what she is talking about, but then he seems to catch up. 

"The Doctors without borders?" 

Arya nods enthusiastically. 

"Lhazar first," she tells him. "But I can apply for other gigs after that." 

He's quiet for a little too long and she can see he's having a hard time finding words.

"That's great," he says finally. "It's what you wanted."

He's sweet, like he always is, and he's trying. She can see it, but she can also see how very far he is from feeling like it's actually great.

And that's when it really hits her, what this actually means.

She's leaving. She's leaving for a year at least, but the plan always was that she could stay longer, go to a different location after the first one. 

She wanted to make a difference, to do something really important, help as many people as she can and learn at the same time, and a year is a short time for that. She has talked to other people, older people, who have done this, and many of them have spent five or ten years working in various places around the world, and that was always her plan —

She reaches for Gendry's hand and her eyes meet his.

"I…" she starts, but she doesn't know how to continue.

"You don't have to say anything," he says quietly. "I'm happy for you. This is what you always wanted."

It is. It really is.

But in all her time of planning it, this was never the situation. They were never together, and Gendry didn't look at her like she was breaking his heart and she didn't feel like she was breaking her own heart at the same time too.

And still he wouldn't be Gendry, _her_ _Gendry_ , if he didn't support her. He'd never ask her to give up her dream and that is one of the reasons she loves him so much. 

So she just holds his hand as she tries to think of something to say. 

"I'm sorry," she says finally, "You know I applied before we got together." 

He nods. 

She looks around the restaurant, not feeling like eating anymore. And they need to be somewhere more private, that's for certain. 

"Let's go to my place, okay? We can get some takeaway if you want," she suggests. 

"Sure." 

Gendry is quiet as they walk home. Arya reaches for his hand, and his fingers entwine with her, his grip firm as it always is, and while they wait for the light to change to cross the street he lifts their hands up, kissing her palm. He's there, he's letting her know it, but he doesn't say a word.   
  


It's a change. She knows he still loves her the same —  _ she _ loves him the same, but it's not the same between them. The pink clouds around them have disappeared and everything is coated with the air of finality. 

Arya starts getting ready to leave. She resigns from her job, rents out her flat and packs her stuff into boxes. She takes shots for exotic diseases, buys a headlamp and sorts through a pile of paperwork. 

They still go to the pub, they still watch movies, they still sleep in the same bed every night. Gendry's there, he's always there, bringing her tea when one of the shots makes her shiver with a fever and rubbing a lotion on her arm when another one gives her a rash that itches so much she can't sleep. He helps her carry her boxes to his car and drives back and forth five times to take all of it to her parents' house.

Arya finds herself waking up nearly every night, unable to sleep, just holding her palm against his warm skin, watching him sleep.

* * *

  
  


"How are you and Gendry?" Sansa asks Arya as they stretch their legs after their jog. It seems her leaving has sinked in and Sansa has been asking her to spend more and more time together lately. And Arya has mostly obliged her, knowing she'll miss her sister.

She sighs.

"You should have seen him when I told him."

Sansa looks at her, understanding.

"Well, you can't really blame him, can you?"

"No, I can't," she admits. She switches the leg she's stretching, deciding Sansa is the one she'll ask the question that's been swirling in her mind ever since she told Gendry about the job.

"Be honest with me, do you think I should just stay here and be with him?"

"Do you want to stay?" Sansa counters.

"I want to be with him."

Sansa nods.

"And how would you feel about not going? How would you feel about it in, say, ten years?"

She looks out to the park. She knows the answer, she's known it all along and that's the problem.

"I think I would regret not going. It's my dream and if I don't go — I'd just keep thinking about it, get bitter."

"Well then you need to go, isn't that it?"

"But being with Gendry is my dream too."

It's something she might have had trouble admitting before, she's always wanted to be so independent. And she might not have realised until recently just how important her best friend is to her, but it's so obvious now.

"You don't have to break up with him. You can still be together," Sansa argues.

"No we can't. I can't do that to him, it's not fair when I don't even know when I'm coming back and I might be away for long. I can't just expect him to wait for me. And I don't know if I could do it either, the whole long distance thing."

"And what does Gendry say about it?" Sansa asks.

Arya shrugs.

"I think he agrees."

"You think? Have you actually asked him?"

"He hasn't really been eager to talk lately."

Sansa sighs.

"You need to talk, you know that?"

Yes, she does, but she puts it off, once again, and tells Sansa she thinks they deserve huge coffees after their jog

  
  


But the time to talk does come eventually, there's no escaping it and one night after they've eaten dinner Arya decides it's time.

"Hey Gendry," she starts cautiously. She's been putting off this conversation for too long already, she knows it. But it also feels like a pointless conversation to have in the first place since they both know the outcome. Arya feels like it's been evident since the second she told Gendry she'd be going.

But now he's looking at her, waiting for her to continue.

"I just thought, well, we haven't actually talked about us."

Gendry lets out a long breath and she thinks he's probably been dreading this talk too.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I guess my leaving means we won't be, you know — " she doesn't want to say it. No, she can't say it. And the quick look into Gendry's eyes, already so pained, because of course he knows what she's about to say, what she doesn't want to say. But she closes her eyes and forces herself to say it anyway.

"— that we won't be together anymore." 

"I don't want to break up with you, Arya," he says quietly and when she opens her eyes he's bent down and shaking his head.

"You don't want to just wait for me either, not when we don't even know when I'll be back."

She tries to say it as softly as she can, but it doesn't sound any better that way. 

"I'm going, I'm doing what I dreamed about and you need to live your life and move on with everything and if you meet someone, you need to be able to have fun without feeling guilty and fall in love with them if you feel like it."

"But I don't want to move on, I don't want to fall in love with someone else," he tells her, his voice strained, like he's on the verge of crying.

"And what will you do, just wait for me for however long I might be gone for? You'll just not be with anyone for years? That's not…" she throws her hands in the air, shaking her head.

"You can't do that, and I can't do that to you. And I can't do that either. I'd just feel like I'd need to come home as fast as I can and I'd feel guilty for being away and we'd both end up being bitter."

She sees it in his face that he knows she's right. He just doesn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He doesn't want to face the fact that this is inevitably coming to an end and there's nothing they can do about it.

"I just want to be with you," he whispers.

Her tears are falling freely by now and it takes her a moment to calm her breathing enough to speak. She wipes her eyes so she can see him at least and swallows.

"I love you so much."

Gendry will never ask her to give up her dreams, not this one, not any of them. And she wouldn't ask him. He has always accepted her as she is, liked her for what she is. Ironically the thing he loves her for is the thing that breaks them.

  
  
  


It feels impossible to let go a second earlier than strictly necessary. They might be breaking up technically but they won't actually do that. They'll be as close as they can for as long as they can, holding on tight. If anything, they just stay closer to each other those last few weeks before Arya needs to leave.

The last day is a quiet one, both of them reluctant to keep any more space between them than is absolutely necessary. They do every chore together, cooking breakfast side by side, showering together. 

They go to her parents for lunch but don't stay for long, too restless for polite conversation, too much in need of time alone. At home, they just settle on the bed, quietly. 

Gendry holds her close, his lips leaving lazy kisses on her neck and his hand flat on her stomach, his fingers curling on her skin just enough to send tingles through her entire body. She can feel him half hard as she pushes her backside against him. 

Without a word Arya moves his hand down, sliding it under the waistband of her underwear and lower, holding it there as she starts to move against it. 

She keeps his fingers pressed firm on her as she moves, long swigs of her hip back and forth, getting faster, more impatient. 

"Take my knickers off," she chokes out when it feels like she just can't take it anymore, that she needs to have  _ more _ . 

Gendry obeys her and his hands leave her for a moment but then he returns, holding her hip with one hand as he settles behind her. 

He rubs his length against her folds a couple of times, maddening, making her breath catch, before he slides inside. 

"On top of me" she whispers, turning on her stomach and feeling him do as she asked, starting to move above her. 

The thought of leaving creeps into her mind uninvited, threatening to drown out every other thought. Arya knows he needs both his arms to hold himself up so she slides her own hand under herself, pressing it on her clit, focusing on it, forcing away the dread. His weight on top of her is like a safe blanket, keeping her in one place as the pleasure pushes other thoughts away for a moment. 

The light moves slowly across the wall, making the shadows change shape. The colour of the light changes from pale yellows to pinkish and then orange. 

Gendry's hand lingers on the bare skin of her back. It feels like they have been lying there for ages, just breathing, both lost in their own thoughts but still together. 

Arya shifts her head to lay it closer to the middle of his chest. She can hear his heartbeat, steady and strong. Just like he is. 

"Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, will you?" Gendry asks, breaking the calm of the moment and causing a lump to immediately form in her throat. 

She nods, kissing his skin and closing her eyes, trying to fight back the tears and failing. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


As the car moves closer to the airport, buildings and trees and parks passing behind the window, Arya can't help the sense of dread growing bigger and bigger by the minute. Every metre they drive brings them closer to the inevitable moment of goodbye. 

The closer they get, the less she can think of anything to say. 

Gendry is quiet too, his hands unmoving on the steering wheel. 

They've said it all already. They've told each other over and over again, whispered words of love so many times it's impossible to count.

And no amount of words can make a change. It's been so clear from the start how they both feel and what will happen, despite all that love. She's leaving and he's staying and there's really nothing more to it. 

  
  


Nothing in the busy atmosphere of the airport feels like it fits the way she is feeling inside. 

She should be nervous about where she's going, excited about everything she's going to see, maybe looking for more books or magazines to entertain her during the long flight or buying something that will help her sleep through it. But all Arya feels is the tightness in her chest, the feeling of suffocating as she looks at Gendry, as she places her hand on his side and feels the warmth of him through his clothes. 

Reluctantly, Arya steps in the line, puts her bag on the belt and walks through the security gate, turning around in the last second to catch a final glimpse of Gendry.

He's still standing there and his face seems frozen in the same expression.

She turns around, desperately swallowing down tears. But it's no use, her face is wet and she can't brush it all away fast enough. It's clouding her vision, forcing her to stop to stand near a wall so she won't stumble into anything or anyone, waiting until it feels there are no tears to cry anymore and her legs can carry her towards the right gate.


	2. You're still my best friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey stranger," a familiar voice says behind her back and when she turns around it's him. A few more lines on his face, maybe just the tiniest bit more weight on him. He's got a short beard and his hair is shorter than it was the last time she saw him. The eyes are the same though and the voice too. And when his lips curl up into a kind smile it's the exact same one he always gave her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I posted the first chapter I thought I was going to just edit the next one fast and post it in a couple of weeks but then life happened. So sorry to everyone I told I was going to get chapter two out soon. But also a huge thank you to everyone who commented because you gave me the energy to start editing again.

Arya drops her rubber gloves to the rubbish bin next to the sink, brushing her hands vigorously together under the water and trying to blow some hair from her forehead with no luck. It's too hot, the sweat has made her hair stuck on her skin and she needs to comb it away with her fingers.

The last part of the long day of work has been surprisingly calm and Arya knows she needs to be thankful for that, but the heat makes it feel like the day has been one of the more straining ones. It's been even hotter than most days, and as Arya makes her way to her trailer the warm wind blows up fine sand that settles on her face, that too sticking there because of the sweat. She already knows she won't sleep well tonight. It's too hot.

"Hey Stark!" one of the other doctors calls to her from the door of his own trailer. 

"We were thinking about driving to the ocean on Saturday. Want to join us?" 

"I can't," she calls back. "I'm flying off Friday night. Taking three weeks off."

"Oh yeah, I knew that. You're going back home for a visit, right?" 

"Yeah. My dad's turning 65. There's going to be a big party," Arya explains, opening the door of her trailer.

"Have fun then!" 

"Thanks." 

Arya steps in, sighing as she sees the bag on her bed. She had planned on packing her stuff tonight but the heat seems to have taken all her energy. Still, it's probably no better tomorrow and living in places like these for five years has taught her to not leave things to the last moment. For all she knows they might not have power tomorrow evening and she'd have to do the packing while holding a flashlight. Or there will be some crisis or another at the hospital, forcing her to work late into the night. 

So she takes a glass of water and makes herself a sandwich before she starts throwing her clothes in the bag. 

She checks her phone while she's at it, noticing several messages from her family members, all excited that they are meeting in a couple of days. The family group chat has some new messages too, pictures of various children doing typical kids' stuff. Arya types in a few words about the heat and how much she is waiting to get to the coolness of the north and a couple of emojis for the kids.  
  


The next morning the heat feels even worse. The sun hasn't even fully risen when Arya wakes up and it's still tolerable but it's way too warm for 7 am. By the time she walks to the hospital the air feels stuffy and the sun burns her skin. 

It turns out the decision to pack her bag the night before was right, since just as she is about to call it a day one of the nurses rushes to get her. 

"We need a c-section, a patient just came in."

Arya never had any particular interest in gynecology, but working here has meant that delivering babies has become a nearly daily occurrence. She remembers how she used to laugh when midwives who had worked in places like these said it was a matter of catching the kids as they flew to their arms, but it doesn't feel so much like a joke anymore. Granted, a doctor isn't needed in every birth, in the majority of them, but there are enough cases when one is needed to help either the mother or the baby, or both. A c-section is often the easiest of options, at least if the situation hasn't gone on for too long before they get to it.

"Does it make you think about having kids of your own?" her sister had asked her once when she had told her of yet another case. 

"I don't know," Arya had answered because it was too hard to explain it all. How the idea of a family seems so far away when she's living this life. How the idea of bringing another life into this world feels impossible when she sees so much pain and war and sickness and poverty. How even though she's doing this all to make the world at least a little bit better, the work and everything she sees makes her feel like an emotionless, cold person a lot of the time and it makes her feel like she's the last person who should even think about raising a child. 

But how she still, despite it all, finds herself thinking about it sometimes, wondering if she would be happier with a partner and a child and a home that is more than a trailer.   
  


This time it's one of the easier cases with a nearly full-time pregnancy and a midwife who's realised early on that the baby won't come out alive without a surgeon's knife. The ten minutes to prepare feel like a blessing and Arya knows they truly are that. 

A c-section isn't a long operation, quite the opposite, but then there's the afterwork, starting from stiching the new mother back together and then making sure both the mother and her little son are stable and healthy. 

By the time Arya has washed her hands it's dark already and she’s feeling dead tired, from the work and from the heath. And there's also the restless feeling that going home after such a long time evokes. 

One of her co-workers comes knocking at her door once Arya's had time to sit down with a cold glass of water in front of her.

"What's up?"

"Just the usual strangeness of going back home."

It's a thing, Arya knows she's not the only one who experiences it. It's the contrast between the places they work in and the ones they are from and the general weirdness that comes from being separated from their families and friends for long periods of time.

"Want to relieve some of that tension?"

They've had this 'arrangement' going on for a while now, some decidedly casual sex whenever they feel like it, staying over at the other one's trailer every once in a while, after stressful days or when they miss home and are in need of some physical closeness. But tonight is not one of the nights Arya feels like it.

She shakes her head. 

"It's way too hot for sex, I can't even think about being that close to someone" 

"Think you can do better back there in the North?" 

Arya rolls her eyes. 

"Wasn't really planning on that. It's mostly going to be family time. But at least I can get a good night's sleep when it's not this hot." 

"You sure? Didn't you have that guy there, that friend of yours?"

"He's just a friend now."

  
  


_ Gendry. _

The thought of him lingers in her mind, the sight of his eyes looking at her like he was able to read her mind, the memory of his touch on her skin. He is so very far away but still he never feels far from her, he is always there, in her dreams or as a fleeting thought going through her mind. 

She wonders what he's doing, if he's ever thinking of her, if he too wishes they could once more have one of those afternoons of just driving around in his car or mindlessly walking the streets of their hometown with no responsibilities and no worries. She wonders if they would still make each other laugh uncontrollably — and on some sleepless nights she wonders if his touch could still make her shiver.

They have texted each other enough to stay somewhat aware about what is going on in the other one's life. It was more regular in the beginning and Arya even called him whenever she had the chance — a moment of peace combined with a good enough connection didn't happen every day and whenever it did, the list of people to call or have a video chat with was long. But it was also harder in the beginning, when even phone connections weren't the norm in the places she stayed in and having entry to the internet was definitely not a standard.

Thanks to the technology advancing it's now easier to stay in touch with the people far away, but after years of being away Arya's also gotten used to being in the outer circle of everyone's lives. The family group chat keeps her on track of what's going on with the other Starks in general, but direct connections with people are another thing to keep up with, and she finds herself unable to stay regularly in touch with most people — with anyone, who doesn't force themselves on her, to be honest.

And Gendry was never like that. He was, after all, the quiet one.

So they exchange texts irregularly, never letting too much time pass between them but only showing each other glimpses of their lives.

_ Gendry: Look! I'm an uncle!  _

_ Arya: Omg that is one cute baby! Congrats, uncle!  _

_ Arya: Also damn those Baratheon genes are strong.  _

_ Gendry: Thanks. And I guess we already knew that.  _

_ Arya: Tell Mya I said congratulations!  _

Sometimes the time between their conversations stretches into months but there is still a connection between them, however weak it might be at times.

They've kept each other up to date with the major events in their lives and there has been an occasional photo of their surroundings, and now that a working wifi is no longer an oddity, it's easier to send him a message whenever she feels like it. 

Arya has seen the view from his office windows when he got a promotion and Gendry has gotten a tour of her new lodgings when she moved into a new country. She has sent him a video of herself learning to surf on a weekend trip to the ocean and he has given her a live report via texts from his sister's wedding.

_ Arya: Check this out, I'm the queen of the monkeys!  _

_ Gendry: Did they pick the lice from your hair and eat them?  _

_ Arya: Very lovingly.  _

It doesn't matter how far and few between the messages and phone calls are at times, Arya always knows he is there. And it doesn't matter how long it has been since the last time they had contact, she knows she can just write him a few lines whenever she feels like it and he will answer and his words will make her feel like he understands her better than most people. 

He is there for her. Far away, but still there.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The crisp air enfolds Arya as she steps out of the doors of the airport. She's surrounded by cars and their fumes but she can still feel the freshness of the northern air. Having to pull her jacket closer to herself for warmth is a strange sensation after so many months in the heat. But she breathes in the air, filling her lungs happily with something that has no trace of sand from the desert.

Her father is there, waiting for her and as she hugs him she feels safe.

The first week of her visit is filled with visiting different family members every evening. They all come to her parents' place for dinner on Sunday afternoon, but that just means each of them is able to demand a private visit to assure them some quiet time with her. In between all that Sansa takes Arya dress shopping, ignoring her arguments about how little need she has for clothes like that, and for a haircut Arya was more willing to allow.

She hangs out with her nieces and nephews, trying to get to know all these tiny people who are part of her family but who she has barely met. The kids are excited about her, having heard so much about their aunt from their parents and having seen photos and videos of her in various exotic places. And Arya is excited too, but it's exhausting at the same time, to play the part of the adventurous aunt for different set of children every day. All she really feels like is laying on her parents' couch, talking with her dad and eating her mother's cooking, that endless array of all her favorite meals Catherine Starks wants to prepare for her while she's there. 

_ Gendry: I heard there were some heavy rains, is it bad where you are?  _

_ Arya: Nah. It's been raining here too but it's ok.  _

_ Gendry: Just wanted to check in to ask if you're alright.  _

_ Arya: You're becoming worse than my mom. _

  
  


Ned Stark's birthday is a celebration fit for a man like him – formal but still with a warm feel, filled with family, friends, colleagues, business acquaintances and politicians. Arya sticks with her siblings and their children and some old family friend, not bothering to mingle with people she doesn’t really care about.

It’s a nice party, there’s really nothing to complain about and with so many people there Arya feels happy she can just blend in.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice says behind her back and when she turns around it's him. A few more lines on his face, maybe just the tiniest bit more weight on him. He's got a short beard and his hair is shorter than it was the last time she saw him. The eyes are the same though and the voice too. And when his lips curl up into a kind smile it's the exact same one he always gave her.

She can't help her voice from quivering just a little bit as she breathes out a greeting and steps right into Gendry's arms.

Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms hold her shoulders. She breaths him in, the scent of him that is still the same it always was and the familiarity, making her feel safer than anything has in a long, long time.

When they separate, Gendry keeps his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm's length as he lets his eyes roam over her, taking in all the changes in her. 

"So I guess five years in the sun is what it takes to get some colour on your skin," he says and Arya slaps his chest.

"Obviously no amount of years in any climate will make you any less stupid." 

The laughter bursting from his lips is like it always was and he looks at her fondly, not at all put off by the insult that he knows is a term of endearment from her.

That’s when Arya notices the woman standing a couple of steps behind him.

  
  


_ Gendry: Hi! How have you been doing?  _

_ Gendry: I have some news for you: I'm getting married.  _

_ Arya: What??? When?  _

_ Gendry: In three weeks.  _

  
  


His wife is beautiful, she really is. Arya had known that from the pictures she had seen in social media accounts, posted by their friends. And, if she's honest, she had also looked up her accounts to see — and found some very sweet ones of her and Gendry together. (Gendry, of course, never posts anything.) 

But it feels more true now that Arya can see the woman in person. She is a lot taller than Arya and has beautiful light brown hair. She obviously knows how to dress and do her make-up — she is feminine in a way Arya feels she herself has never really mastered, or she hasn't tried very much to master. 

From what Sansa has told her Arya knows she is a nice person too. Sansa says she's sweet, but not too sweet, apparently she can stand up to Gendry well enough. 

Gendry introduces his wife to Arya and it's not as awkward as Arya was afraid it would be, although she really can't answer the polite "Gendry has told me so much about you" with the same sentiment. So she settles for "All lies I am sure", and she sees him rub his beard awkwardly. 

Sansa is a sweetheart and she saves Arya from the exchange by pulling her towards their table, telling her it's time for the food and some speeches. 

Gendry approaches her again after the main course. He asks her how she’s doing, he asks about the refugee camp she is currently working at and about her colleagues there.

"How long have you been at your current location now? I forget." 

"Ten months." 

"Will you stay much longer?" he asks.

"I've promised to stay for half a year." 

"And then what?" 

Arya shakes her head. 

"I don't know."

He looks at her in a way that makes her think he's trying to read her. 

For a fleeting moment Arya thinks he might ask the same thing they all do: if she might come back home next. But he doesn't. He never did ask her that, not when she left the first time and not when her first assignment was coming to an end. 

  
  


_ Gendry: Hey I ran into Jon and he told me you've been sick. He said your mom's there to take care of you.  _

_ Arya: I'm fine. Nothing serious.  _

_ Gendry: Your mom flying out there doesn't sound like nothing.  _

_Arya: She's just overreacting. It's just a fever._ _Don't worry._

  
  


There's dancing after the dinner and Arya sits with Jon at their table, watching the people swaying on the dance floor – her eyes fixed on that one tall dark headed guy.

Jon's different, like they all are, the years living the life of a family man have changed him. He's softer in some ways, he looks like the middle-aged father of three Arya teases him of being - and Jon will always claim he’s nowhere near to being middle-aged. But while he may have three kids of his own he's still her big brother, her favorite brother who's always looking out for her, always trying to make sure everything is good in her life. If anything, being a dad has made him more natural at asking how she is. Taking care of people comes even more naturally for him now.

Jon looks at Arya like he wants to say something, but he doesn't, clearly noticing her gaze that’s set towards the dancers.

"Do you guys still keep in touch?" Jon asks after a while.

Arya shrugs.

"Sometimes. Not as much as we used to. You know how it is with me being there. It's easy to just… Lose touch with people when you're not a part of their daily life and I'm busy and the connections are not always that good.."

"Plus he's your ex and he's married now," Jon points out. "Even though I'm not sure if that means too much with you two," he adds. 

Arya wants to argue with him, tell him off, but she can't find the words because as much as she would like to tell Jon he's being an idiot she knows he has a point. Gendry is her ex and he is married, but… He's still  _ her Gendry _ . Or she likes to think so, at least.

They watch the dance floor silently for a while.

"Do you think he's happy?"

Jon looks surprised by her question, and he glances at Gendry before answering.

"Yeah, I think he is."

"Good," she nods, "Good."

"Come on," Jon says after a while, standing up. "You owe your big brother a dance, don't you think?"

She laughs as she gets up.

"Well you are the only one who's really short enough for me to dance with."

  
  
  


_ Arya: I'm going to Asshai for three months. You probably heard about the earthquake and the storms they had.  _

_ Gendry: And what did those poor people do to deserve you on top of all that?  _

_ Arya: What did your poor wife do to deserve you?  _

_ Gendry: Touché.  _

  
  
  


Gendry finds her once again later, near the bar, sitting on a high stool beside a small table, her eyes closer to being in level with his in this position. He stands close, sharing her space, leaning his elbow on the table, his face turned in her direction.

It all feels so familiar. It's the same as always, like it has been since Arya was a teenager. The way it feels easy to talk to him, the way she feels like she doesn't need to explain herself. He listens to her like he always did, he teases her like he always did and she's filled with the pure joy of being around her best friend again. He may have grown older, but he's still the same Gendry she knew when they were still at school.

But it's more than that too, Arya realises as she watches his hand go through his hair as he tells her about his work. It's not just about the friend aspect of their relationship.

If he weren't married she'd get more champagne for both of them and she'd find some way to sneak him out of this ballroom, to some place private, for just the two of them. But he is married and his wife is here. So Arya keeps her thoughts to herself and pours water to her glass. 

  
  
  


There's this thing between them, has always been and Arya thinks it always will be. There are times when something happens to her or she reads something and he's the first and the only person she wants to tell about it. Times when all she wants is to hear is his voice, times when it feels like the one thing that can make her feel better is getting a message from him. 

It's there. 

And she knows she's a bad person and a bad friend too, but she really, really doesn't want to get to know his wife, Arya hopes his wife hadn't come today so she could at least pretend like she doesn't exist at all. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the woman, nothing Arya really could blame her for and hating another woman because of a man is such a boring old cliche but that's what she's feeling right now anyway.

Sansa, of course, is the one to catch up to it.

"You are allowed to feel weird about it," Sansa tells her as they stand near the kid's play area, keeping an eye on the little ones.

"Weird about what?" Margaery pipes in, walking closer to them and catching Sansa's comment.

"About Gendry being married."

"Oh yes," Margaery nods, full of understanding.

"There's nothing weird," Arya claims but it's obvious neither her sister or sister-in-law believe her. They are still as annoying as ever – but also endearingly supportive and understanding of Arya's inner turmoils.

"She's just so… Tall."

Margaery wraps her arm around her shoulder, leaning closer to speak to her in a low voice, like they are sharing some huge secret – or like they are still more than ten years younger, gossiping about some cute boy or girl at a bar, tipsy from cheap drinks, and not thirty-somethings making sure a couple of toddlers don't hurt themselves during a family gathering.

"You know if you ask me Gendry just chose someone who wasn't like you."

Arya doesn't know how that makes her feel. She's never asked Gendry when he started to date or how many people he's been with since she left. It doesn't feel like she has the right to ask and frankly she's glad he hasn't told her too much. 

Besides, she's happy he's not lonely, she is truly happy about that. She doesn't want him to waste his life, she doesn't want him to be unhappy. Still the thought of him being closer with someone else than he is with her makes her want to run to the restrooms and hide. It doesn't help that none of her pathetic attempts for a relationship during the last five years have been very successful. She could try to blame it all on her lifestyle but she knows that's not totally honest either because she has seen others making it work between two people who both do the same jobs she does.

  
  
  


"Stay safe, will you," Gendry asks her when it's late and everyone's leaving. The way he looks at Arya is filled with so much emotion it catches her breath.

She pulls him in a hug – a totally appropriate, friendly hug. She buries her face in his chest, breathing him in.

"I'll try my best."

When she lets him go and steps back a bit, their eyes meet for a moment and that moment feels like an entire conversation with all the worry and care and all those other emotions in his eyes. She doesn't say she'll miss him and he doesn't say it either because there's no need for that. It's enough that every fiber in her seems to be screaming at her that she's not supposed to leave him, she's not supposed to live apart from him. And yet that is what she does.

Arya's always known she misses a lot of things, being so far away. But now, suddenly, it hits her in a new way and she realises that she had still somehow thought that she could come back whenever she wanted and things would be like they were. But seeing them all – and if she's honest, a lot of it is because of Gendry, if not most of it – she suddenly realises there's no going back to how it was. She can move back here, but she will never get back the life she left because it doesn't exist anymore. Everyone has moved on. 

She wonders if the next time she sees Gendry he'll have a baby in his arms and he'll talk about sleepless nights and buying a bigger car and how he never knew you could love anyone like that before he got a child. 

He'll have all of that with that beautiful, tall wife of his and Arya will try to save as many lives she can, living a nomad life that has no place for spouses and children in it.

* * *

  
  
  


_ Arya: Hey, just wanted to say it was good seeing you.  _

_ Gendry: You too. Are you back at the camp yet?  _

_ Arya: Switching planes. 6 more hours to go.  _

_ Gendry: Ouch. Hope you get some sleep at least.  _

_ Arya: Doubt it but thanks.  _

  
  


When Arya feels sweat dripping down her back in the car from the airport to the camp she feels alone.

She got her dream. She's seen the world, she's helped so many people she has lost the count a long time ago and nothing about it feels unimportant. Her work has a purpose that no one can ever deny and she's so proud of what she's doing, she's proud of herself for doing it. She's not changing the entire world, because no one person can do that. She's not even trying to end the wars or building systems that would save people from natural catastrophes, but she is helping people, so many of them, saving lives, making sure children grow up. It's a huge thing to do.

She's fulfilled her dream, she's got what she wanted, but right now she feels like all she can think of are the echoes of the life she had and lost.

At the camp, the air in her trailer is stuffy and ridiculously warm. She closes the door and opens one of the windows. She's alone.


End file.
